


Komorebi

by cosmiceleste



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Angst, Anxiety, Baker AU, Bakery AU, Chubby Katsuki Yuuri, Depression, Dogs, Fluff, Food, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Love, M/M, Mental Illness, Misunderstandings, Model AU, Multiple chapters, Paparazzi, Rich Viktor, celebrity, happiness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-10-25 16:35:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10768200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmiceleste/pseuds/cosmiceleste
Summary: They're in each others arms when Yuuri looks up at Viktor and smiles, nuzzling closer to his chest and asking himself how he became so lucky to be with him.Viktor asks himself the same thing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1st chapter!   
> Instagram : daliacruzs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1st chapter!   
> Instagram : daliacruzs

The lights around him are blinding and erratic, they move around the sea of people like boats, thrashing onto each other and moving in waves.

This is the sea that is constantly swallowing Viktor, eating him alive.

There's a camera in his face, it moves almost mockingly in front of him and flashes, once, and then twice, leaving when it felt satisfied enough with whatever it had captured of him.

He's used to it now. But it doesn't make it any easier.

“Viktor! Hurry up! I don't wanna say here any longer than I have to!”

Yuri’s voice is still recognizable, even over the screaming. When he's pulled further away from the crowd by the rough grip on his coat, he knows it's no one else but him.

A familiar car waits on the corner that they're on. Viktor can see Yakov’s grimace in it even through the large amount of people waving papers in his face.

Viktor smiles at them, waving a dismissal hand towards them, as to say “enough”. Hands touch him, arms push by in the sea of bodies.

He surprised when a bouquet of Angelica's are roughly shoved into his arms. He looks down on them in his arms, they are soft and delicate, curling in between his fingers.

He turns to look at the one who gave him the kind gift, wanting to show his gratitude, or at least flash a smile to them, but  
Yuri’s hand is already on him again, pushing him into the black car.

When he's seated down in the plush seats he notices that the flowers he was given are now destroyed, most likely from the pushing and shoving he had to do outside. Petals are missing from the center and certain flowers are completely crushed and missing.

He sighs, unceremoniously laying the flowers in the seat next to him. He knows it's rude, to disregard such a gift but it doesn't matter anyways, it was far from repair and he was honestly too tired to care.

Yuri’s blond hair whips around from the passenger's seat as soon as he hears the flowers being put down.

“Hey! What are you _doing_?! You can't just dirty my car like that!”

Yakov turns around just as quickly, looking between both of them, ready to say something of his own.

“ _Yuri_! You're not nearly old enough to drive! This car is still Viktor's until you become of age, so if I were you I'd sit down! And Viktor! That better be clean when I come out, you know I won't do it for you!”

“Ugh. It's not like he needs another one. He already has like, five these.”

“Yuri!”

Viktor begins to ignore their argument in exchange for staring out the window.

He was tired a lot these days. Too tired to actually care about what anyone was saying or doing.

That's why when he walked out of the store, and the crowd surrounded him, he felt no real sense of awe or happiness. He just felt. Tired.

Viktor wasn't sure what the future held for him. Nothing he did anymore excited him.

And he also really didn't want to go to that club tonight.

.  
.  
.  
.

“Yuuri! Come on! You gotta come! It's gonna be so boring if you don't! Look, you don't even have to drink if you don't want to! Please”

Phichit was leaning forwards, clutching onto Yuuri's hands, and slightly bouncing on his feet, from the look on his face it easy to see that him would not leave without Yuuri tonight.

Yuuri's face crumpled a little, already knowing he had lost the battle and in a few minutes he'd be getting ready to go to a club. It wasn't that Phichit was forcing him, but he'd promised to go last Monday when he'd been in a better mood, and now, the date had come and Yuuri was having his doubts again.

Sighing, Yuuri looked up towards Phichit and gave him a half-hearted smile, finally making his decision.  
“Okay.”

Phichit’s smile was so infectious and quick that Yuuri couldn't help but smile along with him at his own response.

“I'll meet you outside in the car, ok?”

Quickly running to the door Phichit took one last look at Yuuri before going to his car.

“Oh and Yuuri honey, don't take what you're wearing. Please.”

The lock of the door sounded and Yuuri turned around, huffing softly to himself before running his hands on his outfit and staring at it intenently.

What was wrong with what he had on now?  
.  
.

 

Viktor was nursing his third drink of the night when he met Yuuri.

The stench of alcohol was pugnant in the air, mixing in with the smell of too expensive cologne and something else Viktor wasn't really sure of.

Chris had invited him to tonight as a way to “loosen up” from the stress he'd seen in his friend for the past few months.

Viktor, strangely, did not feel the excitement he would feel when one of his friends would ask him to come out with him. Viktor was usually the one to volunteer to tag along and drink. But lately, Viktor felt unusually tired for long periods of time, and could not find it in him to do much of anything. Still, Viktor had come out tonight to try to at least lessen any worries Chris had previously had or otherwise would.

Viktor had been in the middle of an especially deep abyss of his mind, wondering about what he could do now that he'd done so much for himself to advance his career.

He was so deep in his thoughts in fact, he didn't see the shorter, and much drunker Katsuki Yuuri wobble in front of him until the cup he held hit the dark haired man with a small thump. The contents of the cup quickly blossomed over the younger man's shirt, inciting a small gasp from him.

Flying his head back, Viktor furiously started grabbing napkins from a nearby table and wiping them over him, attempting to heal his accident while repeatedly letting out strings of apologies directed towards the growingly confused man.

Pushing more napkins into his shirt, Viktor was interrupted by gentle hands wrapping around his own. Viktor's head slowly lifted up and stared into the most beautiful pair of brown eyes he'd ever seen in his entire life.

The poor guy looked completely flustered, cheeks blown red, dark beautiful lashes and a pair of lips an angel would want to kiss.

Viktor had been staring so long that the guy blushed a deeper shade of red that spread to his neck and the tips of his ears.

Something Viktor found incredibly fucking cute.

Yuuri was drunk enough to have the courage to talk to the guy in front of him, someone who could easily work as a supermodel, a fact that Yuuri was not quite aware of was that in front of him was the very famous Russian model, Viktor Nikiforov, most recently featured in a magazine for Sexiest Men Alive.

Yurri's voice, smoothed over with the alcohol slurred as he looked to Viktor, “It's okay, I'm fine, really! Um- you don't have to do that- I'm really oka-”

“Do you want to dance?”

Viktor smiled as he watched the other man's face glow a deeper shade of embarrassment at the question.

“Sorry?”

Viktor could see Yuuri was caught off-guard so he softened his voice in an attempt to calm Yuuri, not wanting to force him into something he didn't want, “Just one dance, I'm not forcing you to of course! You don't have to.”

Yuuri glanced around as if he were looking for someone and then stared at the ground, smiling to himself.

He wasn't sure if it was the five glasses of alcohol that were coursing through his body or an impulse decision his mind had supplied, but either way, Yuuri let out another smile and nodded.

Viktor gave his own gleaming smile and went to gently lift Yuuri's hand up, wrapping it in his own. Leading the way to the floor, a  
fast beat song started playing, filling the atmosphere with an electrified beat.

Their bodies, both lost in the crowd, payed attention to only themselves. Two eyes connected while the music continued to move them around.

Although Viktor was still mostly sober, Yuri was quite drunk. Not yet drunk enough to do some of the scandalous things he'd done last year at Phichit’s 21th birthday party, but just drunk enough to move a little easier and care a little less.

Yuuri's hips swayed, looking directly at Viktor, all while grinning underneath the bright fluorescent lights. The alcohol had really hit his system now.

He'd always been a lightweight.

As the dance left both men giggling and panting lightly from the small exertion, a hand reached over and landed on Yuuri's shoulder, pulling him back.

Phichit’s voice rings over the club’s noise, “Yuuri! I've been looking all over for you! We gotta go, it's kinda late and party is kinda dying down, so I'm calling it a night.”

Yuuri's frown was deepening with each word Phichit said, not really sure what he was supposed to do.

“But-”

Phichit tangled their hands together, urgent to drag Yuuri away from whoever he was dancing with.

“Yuuri come on-”

Phichit pulled Yuuri, walking closer to the door until he was halted in his tracks. Taken by surprise, he whipped his head to what or whoever was preventing him from getting out of the building.

He was even more surprised when he saw some guy gripping tightly onto Yuuri's other hand, determined not to let go.

Under the dark lights, Phichit could not make out the figure very clearly from where he stood, but he knew he had to get him away from Yuuri. Speaking of which, he glanced at a laughing Yuuri, cheeks red and head thrown back.

Was he not worried?

Phichit’s voice came out a little more scared than he liked but it didn't stop him from yelling at the stranger, “Hey! What the hell are you doing? “

Viktor responded by looking directly into Phichit’s eyes, “What are you doing?”

“I'm taking my friend home, and trying to get him away from you, so let go!”

“Me?! You're the one pulling him away to.. who knows where!”

People were suddenly staring at the commotion in between the two men yelling at each other.

Okay, this was enough. Phichit didn't handle others treating his friends like that, and in a quick movement, he pushed the nearest thing to him, which happened to be a beautiful vase of carefully crafted Gloxinias at the stranger's feet. In any other occasion Phichit would be taking photos of the arrangement for his Instagram, but now wasn't the time. Momentarily surprising the stranger, Phichit pulled an equally surprised Yuuri to the main exit of the club and busted through the doors to call someone to take them home.

Meanwhile, Viktor was left completely confused in the same spot, surrounded by shards of glass and the second flowers he'd seen today destroyed by careless acts.

It really wasn't until a few minutes later that Viktor realized he didn't even get his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1st chapter!   
> Instagram : daliacruzs


	2. Chapter 2

 

It's not a surprise to him, when he finds Phichit at the end of his bed, waiting for him to wake up.

 

He does it a lot, when Yuuri goes to sleep at inhuman hours and predictably wakes up late, Phichit is the only one who wakes him when his alarm fails to do so, which is  _ often. _

 

He groans and pulls his covers above his head. He may not remember what happened last night, but from what he's done on so many other occasions after drinking so much, he realizes it must be something injudicious. 

 

And does not want to hear about it.

 

The anxiety is already nudging his hungover brain, which is all but ready to come up with elaborate events where he emarasses himself or does something stupid. It’s not helping that he cannot find his glasses for the life of him and the blob on the ground that's moving around is  _ probably  _ Phichit’s hamster, but it  _ could _ also be another mouse infestation that they have to deal with again.

 

Yuuri also is unintentionally ignoring Phichit in favor of closing a hand over his mouth.

 

With the lovely effects of the alcohol quickly disappearing over night, Yuuri's urge to throw up all over their apartment's  _ nice carpets (which him and Phichit are pretty sure were taken from a trash dump)  _ have him running to kneel at the bathroom toilet where the acidic taste from whatever he'd eaten last night comes up.

 

Phichit arrives quickly, arm propped on the doorway with a knowing smile and sparkling eyes.

 

Yuuri can  _ hear  _ Phichit smiling and whips his head around with more force than someone who just regurgitated his stomach should.

 

“What?” Phichit cocks his head to the side and gives Yuuri a gleaming smile. “I'm just standing here.”

 

Yuuri wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and glares at Phichit with such sincerity that he raises an eyebrow and quietly pads over to next to Yuuri.

 

He suddenly feels gentle hands rub circles into his tense back as he leans, hunched over the toilet.

 

“Yuuri!” Phichit laughs out. “ i didn't think you’d do this- but i have to admit- I don't think I've seen you that happy in a long time”   

 

Yuuri sighs quietly into his hands, trying desperately to hide the pink that now spreads over his face like a pink anomies licking at his cheeks.

 

A giggle escapes Phichit’s lips, “You were laughing pretty hard too.” 

 

Yuuri peeks an eye from his hands to stare at Phichit and his blush deepens. Phichit’s smile is too hard to resist and he can't really be mad at his friend for something  _ he _ did.

 

He's made his choice, he can't do anything to help it and a small part of him  _ does _ want to know what he did, so he lifts his head to Phichit, sighs again and asks,“ _ What did I do _ ?”

 

Before Phichit can open his mouth and grab his hands, giddy from the excitement that talking gives him, Yuuri's head forces him to go over every detail he  _ does _ remember, trying to pick out what he could have possibly done.  

 

He remembers arriving at the party, he remembers taking a drink and then two and then looking down at his hand he's staring at an empty glass which  _ could  _ be his sixth or eighth.  _ Not that he remembers. _

A cool hand brushes his and draws him out of trance.

 

“Yuuri?” Phichit softly questions.

“I won't say anything if it means that much to you. I- I'm pretty sure no one even remembers or saw your fa-”

 

“It's okay,” Yuuri says. “Now, what did I do?”

 

Maybe it would have been easier if Yuuri wasn't such a blackout drunk.

 

Phichit, on the other hand is someone who has been granted with the ability to not completely forget every single thing he's done after taking a few drinks, because unlike Yuuri, he is  _ not _ a lightweight who blacks out in the middle of a cab ride home.

 

Eventually, Phichit starts talking and then at what Yuuri suspects is the end, he pauses and looks directly into Yuuri's eyes.

 

“So- I mean, yeah I said a few dumb things I guess- but it's not that bad! I could have been worse! The-”

 

Before he can keep rambling, a delicate finger is placed on the very surface of his lips. It instantaneously quites him while simultaneously confusing him.

 

“I’m not done.”

 

And even though he does not want to, Yuuri listens to the rest of his story.

 

Sometime during the night, Phichit, too caught up in a conversation with someone about _some_ shit he doesn't remember didn't see Yuuri wander away from their crowd of friends and more importantly, did not see Yuuri walk straight into Viktor Nikiforov’s drink.

 

Or start dancing with him.

 

Which is where he found Yuuri, ending a song with someone who was slowly falling in love with his best friend.

 

Had Phichit known Yuuri was dancing with _the_ Viktor Nikiforov maybe he wouldn't have been so quick to pull him away from his future husband, but Phichit knew neither of these things and only saw Yuuri clinging onto a stranger who seemed to be enjoying his dance with Yuuri a little _too_ much.

 

Yuuri doesn't know what to say. He wants to scream, but right now, his body has not quite processed what he's just been told.

 

A small “oh” is all he can manage .

 

His head finds it’s way back into the palm of his hands and finally allows himself to let out a groan. 

 

“Yuuri! It wasn’t even  _ bad.  _ C’mon _. Yuuri.”  _

 

For a second he allows to feel his face as he cradles it. 

 

It's soft, but he can feel a few of the imperfections graze his fingers.

 

Scars from acne and small injuries he received over the years.

 

There's not much more time to think about it as his stomach churns at the taste of his mouth now that he's not distracted by Phichit and can feel the acidic taste on his tongue.

 

He clutches at the seat again. 

_. _

_. _

_. _

_. _

_. _

_. _

_. _

 

When he wakes up the first thing he feels is the heat underneath his covers.

 

It's almost suffocating. The warmth wrapped around his body, even his hand is somehow twisted around a sheet, his pose mimics two lovers holding hands.

 

The second thing he feels is regret. 

 

He starts opening his eyes, the light streams in and it takes him a while to recognize where he is. He's slightly disoriented and his mouth is begging for water, but it's nothing compared to the headache he has.

 

Makkachin blinks open her eyes. She's awake now that she's heard the rustling coming from her owner and lifts his head up to lick Viktor's face.

 

Viktor leans in closer to nuzzle his dog and press a small kiss to the top of his head. 

 

He wonders how many kisses he's left on alcohol-stained glasses last night.

 

The bed shifts underneath him as his presses a hand to the mattress and pushes himself off the bed.

 

Stumbling to the door of his bathroom, he grips the edge of the door and walks over to the sink where a slender hand reaches out and turns the faucet open. Both hands shakily outstretch to touch the cascading water before pulling away once both were full with overflowing water.

 

He lifts his hands up to come close with his face before splashing the cool water onto the surface of his weary face in hopes of waking himself up, but it doesn't do much more than make his face wet and force himself to look in the mirror.

 

_ God, he's so tired. _

 

It's around this time Viktor would be getting ready to go out, but instead he grabs a glass of water and slips back into bed with a slightly confused Makkachin before grabbing his phone to open Netflix and watching a comedy that involves too many straight people.

 

It's around the same time that the protagonist falls in love with another character in the span of one day ( _ as if that would ever happen _ ) that he suddenly remembers.

 

Glimpses of raven hair and mahogany eyes are the first thing he remembers, then it's the dancing and movement of their two bodies and  _ then  _ it's his face.

 

He could go into detail, he  _ could. _ He could focus on his soft face and how his small fingers fit so perfectly in his own, but instead it would be easier to to just say what he was, 

 

_ beautiful. _

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

>  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School finals,,,, eat my ass


	3. Chapter 3

He doesn't want to go to the shoot that day.

 

His head is still throbbing, and no matter how hard he tries to, he just cannot find it in him to slip out of bed.

 

It must be another one of  _ those  _ days.

 

The drinks that had him on such a high the previous night, now come crashing down on him. Worse of all, he could feel the tiredness that came along with his depressive episodes, the empty feeling that filled his chest and held him down.

 

Against better judgment, Viktor's head thumped onto the pillow next to him and he closed his eyes, letting his body fall into a restless sleep.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

 

It's the ringtone that wakes him up.

 

His head is still pulsing with a red energy that can't seem to get out of his head and everything sounds amplified, as if it was purposely intending to hurt his head.

 

A few blinks rub the sleep from his eyes as he lifts his disheveled head from the satin pillow. A puddle of drool covers it and the side of his mouth.

 

_ Ugh _ ,  _ Where’s his phone? _

 

The ringing has gone on for a few seconds now, and he can't expect it to go on much longer, so he pats down the sheets around him until his hand hits a vibrating object.

 

He pulls it out from the covers and checks the number.

I

t's Yuri.

 

His finger hovers over the answer button for a second before reluctantly pressing down on it.

 

He doesn't even need to put the phone to his ear to hear Yuri’s distant screaming.

 

He puts the call into speaker mode before hanging his head on his hand and sighing into it.

 

“ _ Hello _ Yuri.”

 

“Why are you not answering?! I've been calling for an hour! You ass should be here! You said you wouldn't  _ fucking _ go to that party  _ dumbass _ !” Yuri howls into his phone.

 

More insults reach his ears, yet Viktor can not make them out, all that flows through him are the angry noises that come out of the fifteen year-old.

 

Nothing else is heard apart from a select few curse words and the demand for Viktor to reach the shoot in the next half hour.

 

He does right by Yuri and arrives 20 minutes later, a result of a five minute shower and grabbing whatever the  _ hell _ he found in closet. (Not that it really mattered,  _ everything _ in Viktor's closet was fashionable.)

 

He's greeted at the door by an angry Yuri and an even angrier Yakov. They both sport deep grimaces, almost identical to each other, save for Yakov’s much more vehement scowl, a trait that could only be achieved over the years of living with Viktor.

 

It doesn't stop the smile that plasters itself over his face, nor does it stop the hand that raises to the pair, an act that Viktor found pleasant, but only assisted with him being flipped off by an exasperated Yuri.)

 

The walk to them nears him to a point where he can spot the red that splotches Yakov’s cheeks.

 

Nothing else is said as he nears their sidewalk and Yuri reaches over to grab a fistful of Viktor's shirt  to haul him into the building.

 

The corridor is small and he crosses at least two doors before being shoved into a seat where his face is cleared of all imperfections that scatter his face.

 

The actual photoshoot he has to do inside is much less tedious, the photographers seem to be tired and Viktor finishes the shoot in record time. He suspects they must have been waiting on Viktor for hours and grew increasingly anxious to get home. 

 

The guilt gnaws on Viktor again. Sometimes he forgets that his actions do have a great impact on the people around him that listen to him.

 

The crew packs up everything they have laid out when Viktor exits the styling room with a clear face and the clothes he had in the morning. He drapes the sleek coat over his shoulders before walking down the corridor of the building and leaving.

 

The sky has turned dark in the short time he's been inside, the wind is cooler now, and it ruffles his cropped hair. 

 

Suddenly, a drop of water falls onto his cheek and slides down his face, cool and gentle, almost as if it was caressing his face.

 

 

He doesn't reflect on it too long, maybe he would've, had he not seen the woman across the street who seemed to be following him.  Her gaze is pensive, as if she's trying to make out his face, one that adorns the screens and pages of homes in many places.

 

He pinpoints the exact moment she puts it together, the raised eyebrows and poised position are directed towards him.

 

Viktor gives her a tense smile and bows his head, quickly trying to walk to his car in efforts to avoid her.

 

It's not that he hates his fans, they're wonderful people with very dedicated stances toward him, but Viktor is insanely tired, it shows on his face, the dark circles and pale skin. He's still wondering himself how makeup managed to make him presentable enough to shoot the cover of a national magazine.

 

His strides grow longer as he walks towards his car, trying as best he can to make himself less noticeable. It's in vain, for the few people he passes by stop their own days to look at him. Eyes lift from phones, now fixated on him, and he knows why, it's not just his face, but the more recognizable silver mop of hair that curls over his face and obscures his eye. 

 

He blushes, and quite suddenly realizes that he is if fact, in a  _ very _ public part of Detroit. There are people all around him, all of which are now either looking at him, awestruck, and others who keep turning back and forth between their phones, asking themselves if they really did just see  _ Viktor Nikiforov. _

 

He reaches his car with a small pant, the woman who he saw earlier is still walking towards him, others seem to follow as well and Viktor shoves a hand into his jacket, reaching for the key. 

 

His fingers grasp for them , but nothing touches them.

 

He reaches into his other pocket, his pants, he pats himself down, he spins to turn around behind him, he checks the sidewalk, to check that  _ maybe, maybe it fell on the ground. _

 

It's at this moment that Viktor runs out of whatever luck he didn't even know he had. And the universe begins laughing at him.

.

.

.

He's ahead of everyone, he tells himself.

 

_ You're ahead of everyone.  _ He says it again to reassure himself of something he knows not to be true, they can't be more that some feet away from him, he can even hear the voices approaching his place. 

 

His legs carry him to the end of the sidewalk, it's pouring now, the rain is cascading down him, and a tentative shiver unfurls through his spine as he quivers, but he does not stop running.

 

He rounds the corner and puts a hand on the brick wall the stands next to him. Short bursts of air escape his parted lips as he tries to catch his breath.  _ Damn. He really should have taken up those ice skating lessons he passed Yuri up on. _

 

He looks up again when he's managed to calm his breath, even if it was a little. He knows he doesn't have the stamina for it, so he looks towards the shop he's leaning on and without so much of a thought, jumps over the carefully tended Daffodils in the base of the shop and bursts into the small shop.

 

A while later, when he's had time to think about it, he realizes just how rude his muddled brain must have been to disrespect the owner of the, small  _ um- _ cafe? Bakery?

 

 

There's a small bell that rings as he enters the quaint  building, it pulls out a small gasp from his adrenaline fogged state, but it jolts another person who was carefully washing down tables much more harshly.

 

He turns around rather harshly as well, a blush dusting his cheeks while both hands are grasped in front of him.

 

“I'm sorry but we close early on Sundays, if you need something right now, I'm afraid I can't help you sir.”

 

Viktor stands at the door, his eyes completely fixated on the man in front of him, he  _ knows _ those lips, he  _ knows _ those eyes. 

 

They belong to the man who danced with him the previous night, he  _ knows _ it's him. 

 

The smoothness of his face, the careful addition of the pink on him, he seems more reserved now, but it is definitely  _ him _ .

 

His face pulls a smile from him, it's a big one too, but it's so  _ natural  _ and probably the first  _ real _ one he's given to someone who wasn't Yuri or Yakov in months.

 

His heart does a small flutter in his chest, and then, Viktor realizes that maybe this isn't an appropriate length of time to stare at someone- but he's so beautiful and Viktor is so very  _ distracted,  _ that he doesn't notice the hand that nears his face and slaps him faster than he can fall in love.

 

_ Almost. _

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this chapter by falling asleep on my phone and creating 4 pages of l's.


	4. Chapter 4

He hadn't  _ noticed.  _

 

_ He hadn't noticed. _

 

His feet scuffle back, he suddenly realizes where he is and what he just did.

 

He hadn't noticed,  _ for some reason _ , the fact that his feet carried him closer and closer to the startled man in front of him did not process in his head,  and now, he's standing, his back pressed to the door and hand cradling a stinging cheek.

 

It seems that the man is going to say something, he looks slightly embarrassed, now realizing fully what he's done.

 

Viktor massages his cheek one last time, then opens his mouth to let out something akin to an apology for the gratuitous intimidation he'd shown to the man, so he lifts his hand, as to stop him.

 

“I deserved that.”

 

The man almost gives the impression of a statue the way he freezes up, but his enormously gorgeous eyes continue blinking,along with Viktor's enormously giant heart, from the mere sight of him.

 

He can't help the small smile that escapes him, even momentarily, at the sight of the man blinking up at him through bushy eyelashes.

 

“Do you not, um remember me?” Viktor inquires, “From the party?”

 

Yuuri's blush somehow turns deeper, from a soft pink to a incarnadine spreading across the softest parts of his face.

 

“You were t-there?” Yuuri manages to stutter out, up until now his demeanor was, even through the small startling moments, mostly calm, but now that Viktor had opened his mouth, he regarded him with growing nervousness, one that was not completely unwarranted.

 

“How did you find me?” Yuuri exclaims, almost out of nowhere. 

 

For the second time since he'd entered the small shop on the corner of the street, Viktor is taken aback, the question catches him at his vulnerable, and the truth is, he doesn't really have a  _ good _ response to it.

 

“I, I know this may sound weird, and it's okay if you don't believe me, I-” a nervous guffaw exits his lips, “I don't think I would either, but I came here by accident- I had no idea you worked here, I'm so sorry- I real-” 

 

He can see that his strangled words don't quite convince Yuuri, the glint of wariness still fills his deep eyes. Yuuri is not stupid.

 

In truth, as Viktor had these exact thoughts, Yuuri had carefully analyzed Viktor enough to see what his next move would be. He thought about calling Phichit, but ended up deciding not to. He did not want to bother him after sending him home for feeling sick.

 

So Yuuri, against himself decides to do something impulsive, something only his drunk self would really have the courage to do in a situation like this, and allows himself to talk to the stranger who he does not remember, who he knows nothing about.

“It's okay.” Yuuri strains out, his eyes hold steady onto Viktor's clear ones.

 

Viktor let's out gargled sound.

 

Yuuri's fingers tangle themselves together, momentarily showing The tension Yuuri is fighting hard to keep under control.

 

The anxiety crosses his throat, but he allows himself the right to speak, “You don't happen to be the person I danced with, do you?” Yuuri asks, softly but insistently. 

 

Viktor's mouth dries, a strand of hair falls onto his eye and he reaches up to tuck it back behind his ear.

 

“Yes” he whispers, “I, I'm Viktor. Viktor Nikiforov.”

 

Viktor realizes he gave Yuuri his real name a few moments after it's been said, the words hang in the air, and Viktor waits, for the moment that his eyes are filled with recognition and he's asked for an autograph.

 

But the moment never comes, Viktor stands in the same spot, the same light that enters the room and the other man stands in the same spot, with the same face, albeit, more confused, but all the same.

 

“Oh! I'm Yuuri by the way.” he gushes, “Sorry about that.” 

 

Yuuri's hand tentatively reaches out to his own, and Viktor meets him halfway, fingers delicately brush against each other and embrace.

 

They part in the same manner, eyes locked together. And even though Yuuri knows that apart from knowing his name, logically, he knows nothing else of him, he still feels like he has a bigger sense of familiarity with him.

 

He tries to calm his thoughts again. Even if Viktor turns out to have ill intentions towards him, Phichit would definitely beat his ass for him. Sick or not.

 

Viktor lifts his eyes from Yuuri once he believes a sufficient amount of time has passed to look around the store, trying to identify where exactly he was.

 

“Do, um, do you work here?”, Viktor spoke.

 

“Oh! Eh, yes- but I actually own this place with my sister! She's not here today actually, it's just me and my friend, but he left earlier, he wasn't feeling too well ”

 

Viktor hums, eyes now finding a new place to stare at- the area where you would order is put in between two display cases that exhibit small and big sugar creations. 

 

Yuuri turns to look too and gasps to himself, quietly walking around the counter on the left side of the store, then bending down to examine a few small pastries, trying to decide which one he felt Viktor would like better.

 He finally decided between a small plain cake and another decorated with a small lavender rose 

Not knowing what to choose he felt he would ask Viktor.

 

“Do you like pecan or walnut more?”

 

Viktor moved closer to Yuuri, not really knowing how to answer he chose the answer that felt most familiar.

 

“Uh, walnut?”

 

He pulled up in a flash, gleaming at Viktor with a small rose pastry in his outstretched hand.

 

Viktor returned the smile, walking until he reached close enough to see the item in Yuuri's hand.

 

Reaching out for the pastry, he gently put it between his fingers, admiring the small details that adorned the delicacy.

 

Just as he put it between his fingers, Yuuri mumbled something to himself before resting his hand on Viktor's own in a force of rushed movements.

 

“Wait! Do you have any allergies?”

 

Viktor stares at Yuuri, dumbfounded for a moment before realizing what he's been asked and replying with a shaking head.

 

“No. Well, unless you count cats.”

 

Yuuri's soft giggles draw his eyes to the raven-haired man once again.

 

He should tell jokes more often.

 

Viktor takes a look at the pastry again, proceeding to push the soft airy item into his mouth.

 

The smoothness of the rich creamy inside blend with the  dulcified coating inside his mouth, leaving a fruity aftertaste.

 

“Oh.  _ Oh shit.” _

Yuuri looked at Viktor, doubting himself, biting his lip and twisting his fingers onto his own.

 

Almost as if hesitating, Yuuri dug a finger into his palm, 

“Is it okay?” he asked.

 

Viktor turned to face him, eyes wide and filled with shock.

 

“Yuuri!  _ Yuuri.”   _

 

Viktor lifts his finger to wipe a bit of pastry from the corner of his lips, putting it back into his mouth, savoring the remnants of Yuuri's work.

 

Through the years of going to fancy parties with attendees who felt more inclined to feel “higher” above other because of their status, he'd encountered food that could be described as fit for  _ gods _ , but nothing felt equal in power or taste to what Yuuri's handiwork had done to his taste.

 

“ It's  _ amazing.” _

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lateness. It was finals week, and my last week of school, so now I can focus on this Fic more! I hope this chalter was ok, it seems very rushed, and tbh I don't think Yuuri would be so quick to trust a stranger but I had to do it to really start the plot. 
> 
> I'm just writing this I go along so I don't know what I'm really doing.
> 
> Thank you!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is late, and very small, but now I'll be posting a chapter every friday, and they'll be much better!

Yuuri closes about half an hour later, the cleaning up is easier after Viktor insists on helping him. (And the praise he receives for his cake does weigh in on it.)

 

He checks the door again, pulling it slightly, making sure it's shut before turning around to face Viktor.

 

Viktor had in hand a several small boxes with differently adorned and flavored pastries inside, that had been personally ordered by Viktor.

 

The total amount had added up to $235.09.

 

Yuuri had asked if he wanted a discount, to which Viktor, quite strongly denied. Not just for the fact that he definitely had  _ enough  _ money, but he also could not take advantage of Yuuri's kind nature.

 

In the small time they'd been together  _ and _ sober, Viktor could see that Yuuri was extremely kind hearted, someone Viktor felt the strong urge to love.

 

He  _ knew _ . He knew it was silly, whatever it was that Viktor was experiencing at this moment.  _ Love  _ or anything else. 

 

People had always told him that love was something very special, something that required dedicated  _ time  _ and a  _ connection _ between people.

 

It wasn't something that could happen on a whim, a sudden decision made by one person at a single place in time.

 

And Viktor understood, he did.

 

But it didn't mean he and Yuuri couldn't be friends.

 

“Hey Viktor, are you okay?” Yuuri inquired, with a tentative hand placed lightly on the edge of his shoulder.

 

“Hm? Oh, yeah, m’kay. Just a little tired. It's been.. a long day.”

“”Yeah I get what you mean,” Yuuri huffed, “after last night, I don't think I want to see a bottle of alcohol ever again.” 

 

Viktor threw his head back, an airy laugh escaping past his lips, “Even I don't want to drink, and I'm  _ Russian.”  _

__

Yuuri's eyebrows quirked up, and Viktor could swear that his lustrous eyes shone even brighter under the cold moon.

 

“Really? Y’know, I've always wanted to go there! I've tried making a few pastries, I think- I  _ think _ ,  it was um, syrni- _ syrniki ? _ ”

 

“Oh! You mean  _ Сырники ?”   _

“Yup! That's the one. Didn't turn out too well though.”

 

“Maybe I could've helped, but I've only had it a few times, and I'm not so good at baking, cooking is a little bit easier for me.”

 

“ _ Really _ ? Maybe you could show me?”

 

Viktor shuffled on his feet, and stopped their walk to Yuuri's house, keeping his feet glued to the sidewalk.

 

Yuuri stopped and turned around as soon as he heard Viktor freeze next to him, “Viktor?” he questioned.

 

Viktor stood silently a few steps behind Yuuri, an amazed look on his face.

 

“Seriously? You wouldn't mind coming to my house? I have a few recipes I feel I could use to impress you.”  Viktor let out slyly.

 

Another thing Viktor had learned while with Yuuri was that he  _ loved _ Yuuri's laugh.

 

He loved it so much, that he genuinely felt it becoming one of his more favorite noises, along sides Makkachin’s soft  _ boofs. _

 

“Yeah, sure! I'd love too! I would invite you to my house but my roommate is pretty messy-”  _ no I'm not! _ he could hear Phichit say already, “ I don't think I'd want to subject you to that.”

 

“Oh  _ Yuuri,  _ trust  _ me _ it's nothing compared to mine, in fact, I'm probably gonna arrive home and the first thing I'll do is start on the kitchen.” 

 

“Well then, yeah I'll go, just to avoid cleaning my apartment.” 

 

“Alright,” Viktor beamed, “Then is tomorrow okay? I can pick you up- Oh shit! I just remembered something, I left my car back there! I could've driven you to your place instead!”

 

“Hey! We're still relatively close, we could turn around. I don't want to get you lost or something.” a hint of worry etched his voice.

 

“Thanks Yuuri.” Viktor's face brightened, “Let's go.”

 

.

.

.

That night both dreamed of gladiolis and shared smiles.

  



	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Here it is.   
> Sorry if it's not my best work, my depression kinda has me down, but I'm working through it.   
> Thanks as always, your comments always make me happy.

“Fuck Yuuri, what's going on?”

 

Another item of clothing hurled towards Phichit, the effect of Yuuri's frantic search of something to wear in a pile of clothes that were washed no more than two hours ago.

 

“Ugh! Phichit! I don't know what to wear! I mean- he was dressed so nicely! And, ugh!  _ Fuck _ His hair! And his face,  _ and _ body, I just-” Yuuri's frantic rambling had him short of breath and hair wild, sticking in different angles.

 

Phichit of course, through the years of knowing Yuuri had become quite familiar with the anxiety that seemed to follow Yuuri everywhere, a constant with him.

 

“Come here, look. I'll pick out your clothes and you can take a shower! I'm not one for having a bad sense of fashion y’know.” 

 

Yuuri seemed to release a breath that he'd held for a a few minutes and stood up from the pile of rumpled clothes, pushing his hair back in one fluid motion and leaving his room in a dazed state.

 

“Thank you Phichit.” he muttered out.

 

Phichit waited for the bathroom door to shut down before reaching out to grab something casual that he could wear at another's house without making it look that Yuuri had picked something in his sleep.

 

He ended up with a comfortable shirt and pants that matched nicely together and didn't seem too crumpled up.

 

He also made sure to have Yuuri's phone charging so it would be full by the time he left. He wanted to make sure his friend made it back home safely.

 

Sure, Phichit trusted Yuuri's judgment most of the time, but really? Who agrees to go to the house of someone who they've met for less than two days? 

 

In the end, Yuuri was an adult who could make his own decisions, and wouldn't stop him, ( even if it wasn't the best idea ) even though he could still help to make sure he took the best precautions.

 

By the time Yuuri exited the shower, his anxiousness, while still there had subsided through the cool water that had cascaded down him no less than a few minutes ago.

 

His clothes were placed neatly on his bed, so he dried of the remaining droplets of water on his body and hair before picking up the outfit and putting it on himself.

 

He checked the mirror, combing down his hair and slicking down any flyaways, and finally sliding his hands over his his shirt as to make it look smoother.

 

He made a dash for the door, waving a goodbye to Phichit who had settled down on the couch and was watching Netflix underneath a blanket.

 

He had his foot out the door when a rushed Phichit sat up, and hollered into the hallway, “Hey! Don't forget to call me when you get there!” 

 

Yuuri hung his head as soon as the words reached him, his hurriedness and excitement had distracted him from grabbing his phone from the bed stand, which now cost him a few more seconds from reaching Viktor's place.

 

“Ok, for real now, bye Yuuri!” 

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

It was 1:00 pm when Viktor’s body had finally decided to fully recover from last night.

 

He usually didn't wake up as late as he'd been doing for the past few days now, but now that a certain someone had entered his life, Viktor seemed to drift away from his previous favorite hobby, sleeping, which was very rapidly being replaced by being distracted by another man who took up a  _ lot _ of time in his head.

 

Not that he minded it.

 

Currently, Yuuri wasn't the only thing on his mind as he checked the time on his phone again.

 

(Yes, it really was 1:00.)

 

Viktor sprung from his bed, pushing back his blankets and duvets before hopping into the shower. 

 

He also usually took baths, but with the arrival of Yuuri become closer and closer to reality, Viktor decided it wasn't the best thing to do, considering the circumstances.

 

Makkachin had seen this all unfold before him, but decided against doing anything as he kept himself down on the bed and lifted his head only slightly to see some more of Viktor's antics.

 

He hadn't seen his owner quite this ecstatic in sometime. 

 

Viktor stepped out of the shower in the time it had taken for Makkachin to get out of bed, eat his food and relocate to the kitchen when he lay now, on the cool tiles.

 

Viktor draped a bathrobe over himself and wrapped it around his torso, then walked to his closet to pick out an outfit that fitted well on him.

 

He made sure to close his bedroom after that, the mess from weeks, or possibly months of now cleaning it had taken its toll and was quite apparent in the mugs, plates and strewn clothes that landed on chairs, a desk and most of his bed. 

 

It was something that he would rather avoid and leave for another night where he would have more energy to do something about it.

 

The living room was in a much better place, and would require Viktor's attention.  

The kitchen was more or less organized, left mostly untouched by Viktor. 

 

It didn't mean Viktor couldn't cook, he'd kept to himself for the better part of six years, and managed to cook for himself whenever he needed to. He wasn't dumb.

 

But he'd still rather eat out than have to deal with his own procrastination.

 

Viktor stared at his house one last time and then proceeded in making it look as clean as possible by not actually doing any work and stuffing most of the dirty items in places he hoped Yuuri

wouldn't find.

 

He finished by adding a few yellow roses to a clear vase and then waited for Yuuri's arrival.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	7. Chapter 7

Yuuri slowly entered the street that Viktor had texted him last night, the pulse of the sun beat down on him while he looked for the correct house number. He needed to arrive before it became too late.

 

He'd already spent about half an hour at the store picking up a few ingredients  that Victor did not have at home. 

 

They'd decided on keeping it simple, making a small cake that required not much experience so Viktor could easily follow along.

 

From what Yuuri heard, Viktor had never really  _ baked  _ anything in his life.

 

They'd exchanged their numbers the night before, while Viktor dropped Yuuri off at his house. It only took a few minutes of convincing from Yuuri's part to tell Viktor that he could drive to his house and he didn't need Viktor to pick him up.

 

Viktor resigned his insisting and eventually said bye to Yuuri, not before giving him his number of course.

 

Yuuri checked the GPS on his phone one last time and followed the line that lead to Viktor's house.

 

No, the houses that Yuuri encountered weren't exactly mansions per say, but they were definitely more than Yuuri could afford in the place he was in right now. He couldn't believe he was even in the same neighborhood with people that were more than likely millionaires with several homes to the likeness of these ones.

 

He rounded on a corner and sped down to look at the house his GPS was telling me was Viktor's.

 

It  _ was _ big.

 

The house took up the area of about two regularly-sized houses with the land surrounding it even bigger.

 

Yuuri pulled up to the curb of his house, checking again if the number was right before quickly parking and opening the car door and promptly dropping the egg carton that was already precariously hanging from the bag in Yuuri's lap.

 

A loud groan moved out of his mouth, the noise growing louder and more stretched out as he bent down to salvage anything he could from the ground.

 

Some of the eggs had mostly survived and were kept intact by the comfort of the cardboard underneath them, he wasn't sure if it was still enough for what he originally wanted, but hopefully he could still make something out of it

 

As Yuuri picked up the eggs underneath the swelling heat of the sun, Viktor when unsuspected in the second floor of his home, watching as Yuuri lifted eggs and put them back in their places.

 

He quickly hurried downstairs the moment he saw Yuuri looking down at the floor questioning what he would do with the eggs that weren't so lucky and had spread over the surface of the pavement, their syrupy contents running over it.

 

He grabbed a small trashcan he kept in one of the cupboards underneath the sink in his kitchen and paced over the door to where Yuuri was standing over cracked eggs on the other side.

 

Viktor opened the door and gently pushed away Makkachin from leaving the house, she was already quite curious and her energy level spiked up as soon as she saw her owner was leaving their home. 

 

Viktor carefully closed the door and neared a befuddled Yuuri staring at the mess of eggs that had fallen from the cardboard 

and were now running over his pants.

 

Viktor watched as he placed his hands underneath his glasses and rubbed at his eyes, leaning back into his seat and groaning desperately again.

 

“Yuuri?” Viktor questioned as he approached the man and placed a tentative hand in the hood of his car, then immediately  pulling it back, his attempt at being sauvé failed as he curled his hand into his chest after feeling the heat of the car touch him.

 

“Do you need help?” Viktor inquired, his voice laced with a hint of pain in it.

 

Yuuri had apparently really not noticed Viktor and so he jumped slightly in his seat and whipped his head to look at Viktor.

 

“Oh, Viktor! Hi! Sorry I didn't see-” another piece of egg dribbled down his pant leg and fell with a plop at the bottom of his car, inciting a sigh from Yuuri's mouth. “Ah, sorry I'm- I'm not having a very um, good day, sorry about the mess.” he let out slowly.

 

Viktor bent down to pick up one of the the eggs from the ground, not caring about getting it on him when Yuuri let out a gasp and pulled his hands up.

 

“No! Don't- I'll do it! Just-” strangled as his voice sounded, Yuuri still sounded very firm in trying to stop Viktor.

 

“Don't worry Yuuri! Look, see I'm fine! This is nothing, I can always wash my hands!”

 

Yuuri huffed and let out a wheeze of air that transformed into a laugh that hurt his stomach slightly.

 

Viktor marveled at him, his crinkled eyes and jovial expression resounded in his own heart, the noise that he made fluttering in the air around him and filled him with compassion to no end.

 

He stopped for a moment, looked down at Viktor and his cheeks puffed with the smile adorning his face.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Viktor could feel his own cheeks heating up underneath Yuuri's affectionate gaze.

 

Yuuri adjusted his glasses on his nose and bent down to help Viktor, his hands lifting pieces of shell that had crumpled.

 

When they both finished they made sure to stand, Viktor quickly noticed that Yuuri still had egg over his ruined pants and sticky hands on both of them. 

 

“Come inside, we need to get cleaned up and you probably don't want to keep those pants on, do you?”

 

Yuuri eyed his pants once more and blushed, eyes filled with familiar embarrassment.

 

“Eh, no, not really.” Yuuri whispered.

 

Viktor ran back to his house to retrieve a cleaning bottle and wipes to clean Yuuri's car, which they both did very quickly.

 

He also lead him inside his house, and forgot to mention the dog that had patiently waited on the door mat before he could stop said dog from jumping on Yuuri and pushing him to the ground.

 

He landed with a thump and  _ oof _ , the furry attacker beginning to lick Yuuri's face.

 

“ _ Makkachin _ !”

 

Viktor held onto her collar and pulled back, making sure she was a reasonable distance from Yuuri.

 

“Oh my god Yuuri, I completely forgot to tell you I had dog, I'm so sorry! _нет_   _ Makkachin!  сидеть!  _ ” 

 

She obediently sat, her tail wagging in obvious excitement.

 

“Are you okay!? I'm sorry, she's usually more well behaved than this.  _ Bad _ Makkachin.” he waved a finger in her face and then quickly switched back to Yuuri, offeringing him his clean hand.

 

Yuuri wrapped his hand around Viktor's, lifting himself off the ground with the push of his palm.

 

“It's okay! I'm fine, I love dogs, I just got a little startled. What's her name again?”

 

“Oh, Makkachin! She's very excitable, as you can see.”

 

“Aw!” Yuuri lifted his hands, “I would pet you, but my hands are really dirty sweetie.” Yuuri tilted his head, “Can I use your sink?”

 

“Mmhm. And! Hold on.” Viktor ran to his room, his sneakers squeaking against the staircase. He returned with  black sweatpants from his drawer. 

 

“Something comfortable you can change into.” His hand outstretched to Yuuri.

 

“Thank you Viktor. Again.” 

 

Yuuri rushed into the bathroom Viktor pointed to and shut the door. 

 

He washed his hand thoroughly and proceeded to take his phone out and sent a message to Phichit that he arrived before he could forget.

 

He carefully pushed down his pants and pulled the fabric of Viktor's clothes into his legs, letting the cool softness smooth over his skin.

 

In the kitchen a very flustered Viktor closed the tap and dried his hands on a towel, looking for Makkachin he peered over his wall and watched as Makkachin sat down in front of the bathroom door, her eyes glimmering with adoration.

 

Viktor sighed. “Me too Makkachin. Me too.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M REALLY LATE!! SORRYY! !! I PROMISE TO BRING ANOTHER CHAPTER THIS FRIDAY TOO !! SORRY. I LOVE YOU GUYS


	8. Chapter 8

It turned out there were not enough eggs.

 

Yuuri found out once he exited the bathroom with sweatpants pulled close to his skin.

 

The first thing he did was to greet Makkachin, which he happily did as she was waiting for him patiently outside the bathroom.

 

His fingers traveled through her soft curls, tangling in between the layers of fleece covering her body.

 

Makkachin’s tail wagged furiously as Yuuri continued to pet her, and then when he finished and stood up, a low whine emitted from Makkachin, he put a final pet on top of her head and looked up to see Viktor.

 

Viktor watched everything quietly from his place on the stool in the kitchen until Yuuri directed his attention towards him, causing Viktor to shuffle slightly in his chair.

 

“Ah-Viktor, thanks for the clothes, they're very nice! I hope I don't mess them up too bad.” he shifted uncomfortably in the clothes.

 

“No, no. Use them, I haven't even worn that pair in… years, I think.” Viktor paused suddenly, trying to figure out how to phrase his next sentence.  _ How do you even start a conversation with a cute baker about baking?  _

 

“Do you want to start now? I'm sure we have everything.” 

 

Yuuri walked over to the counter where all the items were strewn across and reached over for the carton of eggs.

 

He opened them, taking in the amount of eggs needed for the recipe, it had called for six eggs- eggs that Yuuri did not currently have.

 

“Uhhh, um- I don't think we have enough, um, eggs.”

 

Viktor tilted his head at this, “You sure?” he asked, standing up to walk next to Yuuri. 

 

“Yeah, we have three eggs and we need six, I don't know how I didn't see it, ah shit.” Yuuri's voice hitched up.

 

“Hey it's okay Yuuri! We can always get more!” Viktor noticed the pale complexion that washed over Yuuri. 

 

“Or!” Viktor exclaimed, “if you want to, we can do something else? Maybe save this for later?”

 

Yuuri let his hand drift to his hair, threading his fingers through it and pushing it back, a conflicted sigh blew through his lips.

 

_ It would be easier  _ his mind supplied 

 

Yuuri didn't linger too long before making his decision, he looked nervously to Viktor, “Yeah, actually. Let's do that instead.” 

 

Viktor straightened himself up right as a smile tugged on his mouth, grabbing Yuuri's hand and feeling the warmth and security that spread between them, he headed out the door.

 

“I know where we can go.”

 

.

.

.

 

They drove for ten minutes before arriving at the diner.

 

It was a fairly remote place, it wasn't near any large areas, hidden behind a convenience store a bright sign lighted it's way to customers. 

 

It was exactly for that reason Viktor came here, it was a place where he could relax without worrying about anyone recognizing him or having any unwanted paparazzi on his trail.

 

Yuuri exited the passenger's side of the car and shut the door behind him, looking to Viktor for directions.

 

“That's the place.” he pointed towards the restaurant. “ I've been in Detroit for a few months now, but I've found that this is my favorite spot to eat. Well- apart from your restaurant of course.” Viktor paused and stared at his feet, curving his neck to look at Yuuri through his lashes, “Let's go in.” 

  
  


The inside of the diner seemed to mimic the diners of the 50s, bright neon lights reflected in their eyes, and the tiles were bleach-white with eggshell colored walls. 

 

They both sat down in the booth nearest to them and scooted next to the window that was radiating cool air from it, Yuuri rubbed his his hands together while Viktor faced him opposite in the booth.

 

A waitress approached them, she pulled out two small menus from the pocket on her apron and handed both to them, a smile graced her face as she pulled out a notepad and pen, “Do you know what you'd like to drink?” she asks.

 

“Oh yes, could I have a water please?” Viktor requested.

 

“Same for me please. Thank you.”

 

The waitress nodded her head and walked away from the pair, her shoes clicked on the surface of the floor and echoed through the relatively quiet diner.

 

The quiet settled again, before it was interrupted again by Yuuri's tranquil voice. 

 

“Do you come here often?” Yuuri inquired, his fingers tugging the end of his sleeve.

 

Viktor leaned forwards at the sound of Yuuri's voice, his disconnected demeanor changed and he visibly swelled, 

 

“Yeah actually! I really like this place, it's kinda remote but the food is really great and there aren't many people to distract me here. Sometimes I just need to unwind, Y’know?”

 

Yuuri's smile and sincerity blossom on his face again, his palm rests on the edge of the table and he pushes himself upright.

 

“I know exactly what you mean. Sometimes life can just catch up to me, and I feel like I have to constantly push myself forwards to reach it. Whenever this happened I usually isolated myself though.” His eyes wandered outside the window.

 

“it didn't really do me any good, now I try to surround myself with friends and family, any type of familiar contact between me and another person helps.” 

 

Viktor hadn't realized his eyes had teared up until he blinked and the drop lay haphazardly on the edge of his eye, it moved gently, threatening to spill over and fall.

 

He swiped at it hurriedly, and lifted his eyes from the white spot he'd been intently staring at, it's bleakness failed to distract him from what he'd been avoiding for so long now. 

 

“Viktor?” concerned eyes met his, their color shone under the sun, bright and curious.

 

“Hey, you don't have to say anything. It's okay.” his voice grew softer, “ You know something? I'm glad I met you.” a toothy grin smiled back at him.

 

Yuuri pushed back silver locks, Viktor's gaze focused solely him, the tender movements passed between them until Yuuri stood up unexpectedly. He slid into the seat next to Viktor and extended his arms to wrap around the other man. 

 

The crook of Yuuri's neck made a safe place for Viktor's face, he smothered it in it.

 

He didn't realized how badly he wanted this.

 

He didn't realize how badly he  _ needed _ this 

 

“Fuck. I'm sorry, I don't think this is how I imagined our first date.”

Viktor let out a watery response.

 

Yuuri tensed on him, and Viktor felt it, he pulled back and joined their gazes, Yuuri looked thoroughly confused, he raised an eyebrow and his lip downturned. He was serious now.

 

“What date?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 <3 <3 <3   
> I got 2000 hits also!!! Thank you!!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I'm just starting to write, and any messages are cherished. 
> 
>  
> 
> Instagram: daliacruzs  
> Tumblr: daliaceleste


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